


Gone

by alifletcher2010



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-05
Updated: 2019-06-05
Packaged: 2020-04-08 02:20:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19097773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alifletcher2010/pseuds/alifletcher2010
Summary: He was grateful it was the weekend so he wouldn't have to keep putting up a front for his coworkers. He wouldn’t have to pretend everything was fine and he didn’t miss her. Gods, he just missed her.





	Gone

Sunlight filtered in through the open window, rousing Rhys from his uneasy slumber. Sleep had been scarce and morning came far to early. He sighed and out of habit reached over to Feyre’s side of the bed, only to find it cold and empty. Even though he knew it would be, it still shocked him that she wasn’t there.

Alone. He was  _alone_.

The thought crashed into him like a wave crashing onto shore, threatening to drag him under to the watery deep.

He was completely  _alone_.

Rhys screwed his eyes shut, hoping against hope that when he opened them again, she would be there. But it was no use, Feyre was gone.

As tempting as it was to lay in bed all day, Rhys knew it was no use. Laziness was not going to bring her back and he found that working himself into exhaustion at least kept the gnawing pain in his chest at bay.

After a colorless and abysmal breakfast, Rhys got to work. He was grateful it was the weekend so he wouldn't have to keep putting up a front for his coworkers. He wouldn’t have to pretend everything was fine and he didn’t miss her. Gods, he just  _missed_  her.

After cleaning up breakfast, Rhys got to start checking things off his to-do list. First he threw some wash in, not even bothering to sort, then before the day got much warmer, he mowed the lawn. Next came the flower beds, weeded and trimmed just the way she liked them. By the time he was done with the yard, the wash was ready to be moved along. After a quick shower, he was ready to work on the house. Pick up the bedroom. Make the bed. Clear away last night’s take out. Sweep. Mop. Scrub the toilets. The work became a rhythm, drowning out the constant refrain of  _Feyre is gone, she’s really gone_  that coursed through his body.

He avoided the studio. He still could not bear to open the door, hadn’t even stepped foot in the room since she left. It was like the room was an embodiment of her, and he just couldn’t face it yet.

Instead, Rhys grabbed the now clean wash, and set about folding his clothes. Laundry turned out to be too monotonous a chore to drown out the desperate ache in his soul though. Sighing, Rhys flipped on the TV in the vain hope that mindless television would keep the pain at bay.

But it was futile, because the next article of the clothing he reached for was Feyre’s shirt. Not just any shirt though, her  _favorite_ shirt. Soft with age, frayed around the hem, and so paint splattered its original color was unrecognizable.  _This_  was the shirt she pulled on for lazy mornings after long nights together. The shirt she reached for during scary movies and nightmares. The first time he had seen her long, lithe body on full display in that shirt and nothing else, he knew she was it for him.

But now she was gone.

And Rhys was left alone with nothing but her memory and her shirt.

 

\---

 

“Rhys.”

“Rhys.”

“Rhys!” A voice, as if from far away, called his name. “Wake up!”

Rhys was finally roused from his slumber. He appeared to have fallen asleep on the couch, clutched Feyre’s shirt. Grouchy at being forced back into his empty reality, Rhys glared up at whoever had disrupted his slumber, only to find…

“Feyre!” he cried out, jumping up, and gathering her fiercely in his arms, and cradling her close to his chest, “You’re home!”

“Uhhh...yeah?” She pushed herself out of his tight embrace, to look him in the eye. “I said I’d be back by Saturday afternoon, what’s with the theatrics?”

“Nothing...I just missed you…”

“Oh gods, Rhys, were you this dramatic the entire time I was gone? No wonder Az kept texting and asking when we’d be back!! Rhys, I was just a girls trip! I was only gone for three days!!!”

“Yeah, but I’m still allowed to miss you!”

“Of course you’re allowed to miss me, but this isn’t missing me. This is wallowing!”

“I didn’t wallow!”Rhys said, failing to keep the pout off his face.

Feyre gave him a pointed look. “Right, I bet you didn’t eat take out and drink whiskey in front of the TV until you were so drunk you couldn’t see straight every night I was gone. And you definitely didn’t make anyone cry at work yesterday, and you most certainly weren’t just napping on the couch curled up with my T-shirt!”

“Hey!” Rhys spluttered, “Who told you about work?”

“Cassian, duh.”

“Damn him.” Rhys sighed and slumped back down on the couch. “Ok, so I was a melancholic while you were gone.”

Feyre rolled her eyes. “A little?!”

“Ok, a lot…but it was the first time we’d been apart since we got married, can you blame me?”

Feyre laughed and flopped down on the couch next to him. “I guess I can’t,” she said, wrapping her arms around him.

“I mean, why couldn’t your sister have a normal bachelorette party? Why’d you have to leave?”

“Because Nesta’s has been sober for a year now, and we’re all very proud and supportive of her. Which means no bars and no crazy bachelorette party shenanigans.”

“Ugh, I guess when you put it that way.” Rhys said, sarcastically.

Feyre rolled her eyes again. “And it’s not like we do normal around here anyway. You guys went axe throwing for Cassian.”

“Fair point. That was awesome!” Rhys chuckled, and then pulled his wife into his lap. “I still missed you though.”

“I did too.” Feyre admitted, snuggling into Rhys’ chest. “I very nearly drove both Nesta and Elain crazy. Apparently, I become very whiny when you’re not around.”

“And you had the balls to make fun of me for being moody while you were gone? Hypocrite.”

“Drama Queen.”

“Yeah, but you love me anyway,” Rhys said, drawing Feyre’s face up to meet his.

Breathlessly, Feyre said “Yeah, I do.” And then soundly kissed her husband.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry :D Don't hate me. It just felt very Rhys to me


End file.
